


It's Not Just A Map, You Doofus

by NewandOld



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Treasure Planet Fusion, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Gen, Iverson and Allura are kind of friends, Lance (Voltron)-centric, No Lions, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pirates, Space Pirates, Treasure Planet - Freeform, Warnings For Language, at least no planned lions, but nothing else, but yes lance is jim, keith where are you why are you so hard to write, let's have some fun with this, planning on gen but who knows, we'll see
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-10-19 22:46:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10649634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NewandOld/pseuds/NewandOld
Summary: When Lance had been given the map to Treasure Planet, he hadn't expected anything to come out of it, much less be shipped out to space.





	1. Chapter 1

"Lance, take table two!"

Lance struggles with the dishes in his arms as he grumpily acknowledges his mother.

Just another day at the McClain's restaurant.

As he stood in front of table two waiting for his customers' final decisions, Lance glanced out at the window, eyes becoming distant as he absentmindedly fiddled with a cord around his neck. A large ship with the latest aerosail technology was floating by, the thrusters lighting up in preparation for a hyper jump.

Lance looked a little too long at the ship, only turning back to the table at the polite throat clearing in front of him. A small grimace quirked at the edge of his lips, falling quickly back into an impassive expression.

Few hours of grueling work later, Lance cleared away the last of the plates from his table. He glanced out the window and saw the bright afternoon sun beckoning.

"Mama, I'm going out!"

"Out? Now? But it's almost dinner rush -"

"I'll be back in an hour!"

"Hijo, if you're going hydro-boarding -!"

Lance slammed the door, immediately heading to the garage to pull out his hydro-board and headed towards the abandoned construction site near the cliffs.

Glancing briefly around to check that no one was around, Lance stepped onto the board and looked over the edge of the tallest cliff.

Stepping back and taking a deep breath, Lance stepped forward off the edge.

The wind swept through what short hair he had, and Lance fell with his limbs spread as far as he could reach, the wind whipping away his whoops of delight. At the last moment before an imminent crash onto the ground Lance checked his fall, forcefully pulling out the hydro-sails - it caught the updraft and stopped midair for a milisecond, before the engines shot the board back up the cliff.

He went through the construction site, slipping and sliding over obstacles, performing maneuvers he had thought up during his shift.

An unfinished ramp pointing towards the sky was fast approaching; usually Lance would pass it by, but he couldn't help it - he rushed towards the ramp and flew up and _up_ -

Lance began to climb vertically, shooting the board up into the sky as high as it could possibly go.

As he broke through the cloud cover, he caught the last rays of the sun, the dark red fading into the horizon as he watched.

He slowly pulled away from the engine's controls, and he hung in midair, eyes closed as he drank in the last rays of the sun.

Then he began to fall again - twisting and turning, using as much of his acrobatic abilities to flip as many times as he dared.

The wind howled in his ear, and Lance felt his clothes being whipped about, pulling out a shiny silver pendant to be buffeted in the air. Lance sighed happily as he eased out into a free fall. This was the best part of his day, as close to flying through space as he could get while grounded.

Veradera was a great place - he loved the people and the flourishing port city, the heart of Arus - it had everything he could possibly want, except...

Well, except _space_.

Right before he became splattered on the ground, Lance fired up his hydroboard and eased out into a glide, swerving the broken fences of the construction site.

He checked the time, wondering if there was time for one more free-fall - when he heard the apporaching sirens.

Lance groaned.

* * *

"Mrs. McClain, I know you are one of the most upstanding citizens of the city, but your son is to be held accountable for flying a hydro-board in a residential area -"

Lance sighed, tuning the officer out as he pulled a hand through his windswept locks. He wouldn't get into trouble, the worst he would get would be a couple of hours of community service or a fine.

"-last warning, or send him to a probationary facility in Altea!"

 _What?_ Lance quickly whipped his head back. _Probationary facility?_ Jail?

"...I understand, officer. I am so sorry for my son," Mama said contritely. "Thank you for letting him off with only the warning."

With a sniff in Lance's direction, the policeman tipped his hat.

"Good night, ma'am."

As soon as the door closed behind the officer, Lance quelled at the disappointed gaze of his mother.

"Lance," She began softly. "What did I tell you about _not going hydro-boarding_?"

"...not to," Lance replied in a small voice.

"And what," she said, waving a slip of paper under his nose. His mother's anger was nearly palpable in the tense atmosphere. "is this piece of paper?"

"...a warning for hydro-boarding in a private, off-limits construction area." Lance muttered, knowing that anything else he said would make his punishment worse.

"Leonardo Alejandro McClain," Mama said, rubbing between her eyebrows. "You are grounded. From everything until further notice."

Lance began to protest, only to stop himself at the look on his mother's face. Making a face, Lance turned away.

"Lance," Mama pleaded to his back. "I just don't want you throwing away your future."

Lance gathered the stack of dishes on the empty table nearby, mumbling disgustedly.

"What future?"

* * *

 

Later that evening, Lance sat on the roof, staring out at the blinking lights of the stars, the occasional streaks of a passing asteroid, and the steady lights of the ships in the harbor.

He worried a silver pendant in his hand, fingers ghosting along the edges of the faded symbol in the back. As he leaned back, voices drifted up to where he was leaning against the roof.

"- know what to do anymore, Coran," Mama's voice came through the open window. "Ever since Diego... he's been like -" She made a frustrated sound. "- Were you there tonight?"

"I did see," Coran's calm voice answered. "It's only a phase, my dear."

Lance snorted.

"...I really hope so," Mama said with a sigh. There was a sound of a chair being scraped back, and the soft sound of pacing. "He wasn't like this before! Lance is so obsessed over the legend of that Pirate Captain's treasure."

"Every boy wants a little bit of adventure, a little bit of excitement in their lives," Coran said sympathetically. "He'll get it out of his system once he experiences real space."

Lance sighed and stopped listening. As of his Mama would ever let him out to space. Not after what happened to his Papa.

Lance stared up at the starry sky, staring at the lights of the fishing boats just out of sight on the edges of the space port.

 _How I wish I was there,_ he thought.

Lance looked down at the silver pendant, fingering every detail again as he remembered how the pendant came to him.

* * *

Every year, there was an old space-sailor that came to their inn around Lance's birthday, sitting in the exact same booth, ordering the exact same meal - a surly, crazy drunkard with wrinkles and scars - and Lance remembered him every year, poking the man for some of his stories.

And every year the sailor would get drunk on fermented nunvil, drunkenly telling anyone who would listen about how he had been cabin boy to the Pirate King Zarkon for a few months before he escaped. How Zarkon had hidden his treasures on a hidden planet that no one could enter without his permission - especially not the cabin boy who just joined!

During his stories, Lance listened quietly off to the side. Later in the evening when most of the guests were gone, Lance was usually tasked to take the drunk space-sailor up to his room. And in the privacy of the room, Lance would whisper a soft _I believe you_ to the half-conscious drunkard before he left, quietly leaving him to more of his drink.

The next year - his fourteenth birthday - the man came around again, but did something different - he didn't tell any tales of the Treasure Planet thiz time, quietly nursing his drink until he asked to be helped up to his room. As usual, Lance took him upstairs. When Lance turned to leave, the space-sailor stopped him with a grunt, pulling out a tiny grubby package from the depths of his ragged coat.

"M'lad," he croaked. "I wanted to thank you. All these years, none believed me or me stories of Zarkon," He said wistfully, looking mournfully down at the small parcel in his hand. "But you... you believe me, don't you?"

Lance hesitated, then gave a small nod.

"Yes... you believe me. Tha' is enough," the old drunk muttered to himself. "...tha' must be enough."

Lance stood awkwardly, unsure if he was dismissed - but before he could turn to leave, the old man pushed the little package to Lance, clenching Lance's fingers around leather.

"M'lad, t'is the only thing tha's been keeping me sane - only proof that I'm no crazy drunk sailor sproutin tales!" He pushed the package towards Lance and gave him a nudge. "Open it, lad! Open it."

Surprised, Lance glanced down at the leather-wrapped thing warily, but slowly took away the leather to reveal a silver pendant of a lion. Its eyes looked to be sapphires set into the metal.

Lance gaped, glancing from the pendant to the sailor, who was looking on with amusement.

"But... this looks... definitely not cheap!" Lance protested, questioning the sailor. "...Why are you giving this to me?"

"...Because yer the only one who I trust to do wha' I couldn'." the drunkard said with a sigh.

When Lance made no movement to take the pendant, the drunkard turned the pendant over to show a faded sigil.

"Reco'nize the symbol, lad?"

And Lance did. It was a well known fact that the Pirate King Zarkon had a personalized symbol, an elaborately designed X; even years after the pirate's rumored death, the symbol was associated with the dastardly pirate, who left his symbol in every place he raided.

"...Captain Zarkon's symbol?"

"Yes, lad, yes! Some tell me I'm just an old crackpot telling tales with a fake, but this... I stole this when I escaped his ship that night," The sailor stopped to take a swig of his drink. "Stole 'em right under their noses. Ha, take tha' Sendeck ya foolish yellow-bellied sap-sucker!"

"But still! Why are you giving this to me?"

The sailor suddenly stilled, eyes glittering sharply under his unkempt hair. Slowly, the agitated glitter faded, replaced by weariness.

"I'm being chased, lad," The sailor said with a sigh. "They're chasing me, all for tha' little thing. But no one's going t'know I gave it to ya, the li'l scrappy innkeeper's boy."

"No, no one will know it's here, and I'll die knowing tha' the last key's in the hands o' someone who's not those scurvy-infested one-armed scum."

Wide-eyed, Lance accepted the proffered pendant.

The sailor stared a bit, then broke into a wide grin, ruffling Lance's hair. "'Atta boy. The name's Ulaz, but don't you go blabbering it to everyone."

* * *

Lance slid a finger over the symbol again.

Ulaz continued to come by every year, taking Lance aside to tell tidbits of leads that he'd found on the treasure.

It was nearing Lance's birthday, and Ulaz was coming anybday now.

He'd drop by in a small old aeroship that made a strange clicking noise every time it entered the atmosphere -

Lance jerked up to the sky. Just like that.

Lance immediately searched the evening sky for the familiar ship. It was entering the atmosphere right then, but something was wrong.

One side of the sail was tilted to the side, barely hanging onto the main mast; smoke was pouring out of the ends of the ship, and the ship was coming in too fast to make a safe landing on the ship port at the inn.

With a large crash, the ship landed hard into port. Lance stood a few seconds in horrified silence, until coming back to attention at the explosion that broke the ship's hull.

"Mama!" Lance shouted, jumping off the roof. "It's Ulaz's ship!"

"What?" He vaguely heard his Mama yell back, but he ignored it to make his way to the broken ship. At the broken ship, Lance hesitated to go into the ship. Something was wrong, and Ulaz wasn't coming out of his ship. It had caught on fire, and he didn't know whether to call for the fire department or try to get Ulaz out himself.

Suddenly, the door of the ship cabin crashed open, and Ulaz himself stumbled out.

Lance was only close enough to catch the ragtag sailor as he fell off the side of his ship.

"Ulaz!" Lance tried to look over the space sailor, trying to find what was wrong.

He was pressing down into his side, where a large gash was bleeding green.

"M'lad..." Ulaz muttered, a hand grasping Lance's face. "He's coming."

"What? Who? By the Pirate King, Ulaz!" Lance gaped at the bleeding wound and placed a hand to put more pressure on the injury. "You're bleeding!"

"I... this -" Ulaz coughed harshly, and Lance felt a splurt of liquid under his hands.

"Ulaz, stop talking! There's a doctor -"

" _No_."

"But -"

"It's too late for me, m'lad," Ulaz muttered, clumsily rummaging through his coat with a bloody hand. "Here -"

Ulaz thrust a sphere into Lance's hands, a metal sphere with many little indentations and little markings all over.

"M'lad..." Ulaz coughed again. "He's after it - the map -"

"Ulaz, I don't understand," Lance stuttered, feeling more blood pour out through his fingers as Ulaz coughed. "I - Ulaz-"

Suddenly, with hidden strength, Ulaz pulled the boy in by the collar. "Beware the cyborg..."

With a harsh sigh, Ulaz shuddered, then fell into Lance's arms.

"Lance!" His mother and the doctor came up to him, and the doctor immediately took over caring for Ulaz.

"Mama." Lance hugged his mother, shocked at the death of his friend.

"Oh, Lance," Mama pulled him close into a tight hug. "Are you okay?"

"...Yeah." Lance put away the metal sphere in his pocket, looking down at himself to see his bloody hand and front. "Ulaz... I think he's dead..."

"Lance is correct," Coran said soberly. "He has just succumbed to a heart attack exacerbated by blood loss. Ms. McClain, the police, if you would?"

* * *

"According to the police, this Ulaz fellow was retracing the last steps of the Pirate Captain Zarkon," Coran said with interest, handing his mother a cup of tea. "He was really close, too."

While his mother and Coran spoke in low tones of the sailor, Lance had taken out the metal sphere, fiddling with the mysterious object. The police had come by to take the information on the ship explosion, but no one knew much - Lance only knew his name.

Pulling out the sphere, Lance began to juggle it, wondering what was so important about it. What could it be? Ulaz had given it to him with the warning of 'beware the cyborg', but there were millions of cyborgs just in the city. Who was the warning against?

Lance fiddled with the sphere, playing around with the indentations when the sphere suddenly clicked open, extending four more finger-holds.

Wide-eyed, Lance looked back at the two adults in the room, discussing the death of Ulaz; both were not paying any attention to what he was doing.

Touching the extensions gingerly, Lance waited for something to happen. When nothing happened, Lance fiddled with the extensions, coming to a realization.

"It's a puzzle," Lance mumbled. "Heh, let's see why they call me the tailor -"

The extensions pulled back in with a click, releasing a rotating mechanism.

"Bingo," Lance smirked in triumph, rotating the two halves until the indented shapes matched up. There was a small whirr, then the entire room was plunged into darkness. "Wha-?"

A blue glow filled the room, the darkness lighting up with the stars and planets that stretched across the darkness.

"This is..." Lance gaped, touching a planet that drifted close. "This is amazing."

The stars were glowing a soft neutral white, the intensity of the color showing the size; the softly glowing blue were the planets that orbited the star, with blue lines to show each orbit. Lance noticed some faint red to point to black holes and asteroid fields.

"This technology is incredible," Coran agreed, peering at the galaxy drifting towards him. "Ah, it's the Krakroff galaxy, centered around the star Alpha-8. The rotations seem to be mostly accurate... maybe some orbits off by a few decafeebs..."

"But what is it?" Mama asked, bemused, looking around the planets.

"Hmm," Coran wondered aloud. "It seems to be based off of ancient Altean technology - perhaps an astro-"

Before Coran had a chance to finish, Lance found their planet Arus, and going with his gut, tapped the planet with his pendant.

Everything lit up, the map twisting and zooming in towards the planet, a green line forming and shifting the entire hologram along as it connected different planets together.

"Why, it's... a map!" Coran exclaimed as the stars and galaxies whipped past. "That's the Corral galaxy! Montressor Abyss! And... no. It can't be!"

"...It's Treasure Planet," Lance breathed, when he caught sight of the planet X. "It's a map to Treasure Planet!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Voyage of RLS Nortlov begins (read backwards? :3c)

"Mama, I have to go search out that treasure!" Lance said with an excited gleam in his eyes. "It'll help out with the inn!"

"Well..." Mama hesitated. "How do we even know this is real -"

A sudden crash came from the front door of the inn.

"What was that -" Coran muttered, heading towards the windows.

Before he had a chance to actually look out, there were yells and a loud ruckus, followed by laser shots.

"Coran, look out!"

Lance pulled Coran down under the window sill as the glass broke - the yells were getting louder, and the lights in the inn suddenly went out.

"We have to leave!" Lance yelled, locking the door of the inn. "There's a bad bunch fighting out front!"

"I'm not usually, but I'm with Lance on this one!" Coran added as he ducked under another laser shot. "We'll call the authorities as we head to a safer location!"

As they headed away from the inn in Coran's covered wagon, Lance heard an explosion behind them.

The inn was on fire - there were panicking people everywhere, ducking under shelter from both laser-shots and fire.

Mama had turned pale at the sight of the burning inn, voice shaking as she notified the local authorities.

* * *

"No, absolutely not," Mama said resolutely, placing her teacup firmly on the oaken table in front of her. "Didn't you hear what the police just told us? All those... _pirates_ were just fighting it out among themselves to get to us more quickly, to find more information on _Ulaz_! The last person who spoke to him is _you_ , Lance! They're going to do everything they can to talk to you!"

The three of them had escaped the chaos to Coran's suburban villa, where there were books and papers lining the walls from his Astrophysics thesis, as well as small models of planets and holographic art of supernovas on the walls.

"But Mama!" Lance protested.

"No, you are not leaving Veradera."

"Actually, Sofia - may I call you Sofia, I think we've been through enough to overlook pleasantries - I believe you may be safer if you both moved away from Veradera for a couple of months," Coran interjected. "They know to look for you here, and it's may be a good idea to lay low for a while."

"-And I can lay low while searching out the treasure!"

"I said no, Lance!" Mama said. "You are not going out to space alone!"

"But -"

" _No_ ," Mama huffed, turning to Coran. "Coran, back me up here!"

"Your mother is absolutely right," Coran chimed in. "You should absolutely not go alone -" Taking out an old carpet bag from a nearby drawer, Coran began placing toiletries and papers inside. "But with me, and we'll go search out the legendary treasure of Pirate Captain Zarkon!"

" _Coran!_ "

"I've been waiting for an adventure in my old age, and a quick trip for treasure fits the bill perfectly!" Coran said delightedly, rummaging through his tower of books for a small communicator. "I'll just take some of my inheritance, hire a ship and crew, and we'll be off tomorrow!"

"You're supposed to back me up here!" Mama protested.

"Come on, Sofia," Coran said in a loud stage whisper. "A few months out in space - just what a boy needs to settle down!"

"But -"

"Mama, I promise I'll try to stay on the straight and narrow when I come back," Lance pleaded. " _Please_. This is my chance to make it up to you."

After a long moment of silence, Sofia breathed out heavily. She kneaded the frown between her eyebrows.

"Fine," she said. "I'll go to Aunt Marianna's house to 'lay low', while Lance..." Sofia eyed Coran sharply. "Follows you to find that treasure. I expect him to come to no harm."

"Yes!" Lance shouted in triumph, pumping his fist into the air. "Just you wait, Mama! We'll be living like kings!"

Sofia tiredly sat back into the squashy armchair, ruefully smiling at her son's antics. Coran sat down in the chair next to her,

"Ah, Sofia, he'll be right as rain," Coran said confidently. "He'll come back all settled into his skin."

* * *

"Lance! This is our ship! The _RLS Nortlov_ ," Coran said with a bright smile. "Lucky us for finding a ship, crew, and captain all so very quickly!"

"Yeah, _real_ lucky," Lance muttered, distancing himself as far as possible from the eccentric professor who had decided to wear an out-of-place space armor and bright red cape.

The ship was beautiful, the deck clean and all the solar sails brightly shining as if recently polished. There were plenty of people moving around crates of what looked like food and kegs water, all under the direction of a large man. Lance couldn't help looking around in awe at the fluid way all the crew members seemed to just _know_ what to do; he missed the introduction of the stiffly-uniformed burly man and came back into the conversation in time to see the man point up.

"- _not_ the captain, the captain is at the helm,"

Lance followed the finger, and saw a beautiful woman standing regally at the helm, her long white hair tied up into a tidy bun. Her form-fitting uniform was immaculate, her buttons and medals polished.

Her purple eyes were sharply keeping an eye on the preparations on deck, but when they landed on Coran, her entire face lit up - Lance couldn't help feel as if looking at one of the most beautiful creatures in known universe.

The captain - Lance wanted to say _fairy-tale princess_ \- walked over to them, gracefully sidestepping the various activities on the deck as the sailors continued their preparations.

"Uncle," she spoke to Coran with a smile. "Glad to have you aboard. I assume you've been well?"

"...Allura? You're the captain?" Coran spluttered, looking surprised.

"Something wrong with that, Uncle?" Allura said with a frown. "I'm a perfectly eligible candidate to pilot this ship."

"I know _that_ , my dear," Coran hurriedly explained, seeing the glint of dissatisfaction. "I just thought you were busy with training up the new cadets at your interstellar academy."

"Ah, well. We have some cadets on board for an observation internship," Allura said with a sparkle in her eyes. "And there just _happened_ to be a vacant spot on the list of overseeing instructors."

During this discussion, Lance could not keep his eyes away from the beautiful captain. At his drooling, Coran quickly stepped on Lance's toes and formally introduced him.

"Allura," Coran started. "This is Lance, the boy who found the treasure m-"

Eyes sharp, Allura gave a sharp shake of the head. Coran looked surprised at the sudden shift in behavior but obliged, looking around as well when she eyed the nearby crew with thinly veiled suspicion. However, other than quietening down for a brief moment with a brief glance their direction, the crew continued with their chores.

"Inside, if you please," Allura muttered, leading the way.

* * *

"Uncle, I don't know where you hired these people, but it doesn't feel... _good_ ," Allura started as soon as she closed and locked the door in her cabin. "It's only a gut feeling to be perfectly honest, but things came together a little... too quickly."

"Too quickly?" Coran repeated, frowning. "But I thought it was normal to gather a crew in a couple of days, especially when making use of the Garrison personnel data files?"

"A few days, yes," Allura nodded. "But all these volunteers signed up almost one after another; it's..." she waved a hand vaguely at her first officer. "How did I describe it this morning, Iverson? I rather liked what I said over coffee."

"A 'quiznakingly highly improbable set of events more likely to happen than your father's medals hanging from a Galran flagpole', sir," Iverson said stiffly. "May I add that the accompanying sarcastic scoff was perfectly executed, although unwarranted."

"Yes, precisely that," Allura agreed, a hint of a satisfaction in her voice. "Your faith in the Garrison program is admirable, Iverson, but you have to agree that something is not right."

"...If you say so, sir," Iverson said, his pause giving voice to his disbelief.

"Iverson, this is not the Academy, and where we're going, there will be no _authorities_ to report misbehaviors and such," Allura warned. "Stars know why I let you on this ship, much less be the _first_ officer with that attitude."

"I live to please, sir," Iverson said huffily, leaving the captain's cabin. Did Lance just see an eye roll?

"Well. Now that is over and done with, Lance, was it?" Allura said, scanning Lance up and down. "You will serve under the first and second officers of this ship, learning the ropes and going to lessons with the other cadets on board. Your designation will be the cabin boy, the lowest rank of this entire ship."

"But -"

"You have no skills set to share with the crew other than getting us the map," Allura said sternly. "Even Dr. Coran has some knowledge in dealing with space storms and supernovas. You have nothing; you will start from the very bottom."

At Lance's dissatisfied face, Allura straightened further and loomed over him. "Address me as sir, or captain from now on, and hand over the map for safe keeping."

Lance shared a glance with Coran, who nodded gently.

"The map, if you will," Allura prompted, hands flicking for the map. "Any day, cabin boy."

"...Yes _sir_ ," Lance said, trying not to let his mutinous voice through. He threw the metal sphere and watched it be locked up in the safe. "...just 'cause you're pretty, _princess_ ," he added under his breath.

* * *

"Cabin boy," Iverson yelled. "Come here!"

"Yeah?" Lance asked, glaring up at the taller man.

"That's _yes, sir_ to you," Iverson said pugnaciously with a glare. He gave Lance a once-over, then sniffed his disdain. "Tomorrow will be our first day into the voyage, and you are to report at 0700 in front of this cabin for your daily lessons with the other cadets. Is this understood?"

"...Yes," Lance muttered, glaring away from the man at the tone of condescension.

"What was that?" Iverson stared him down, as if daring Lance to try and react.

For a few moments of glaring at each other, Lance folded, just wanting to put his things away.

"...Yes _sir_ ," Lance answered, eyes narrowed to slits as he looked up into his eyes.

"Hmph. Your hammock will be with the rest of the crew; more specifically with the two cadets," Iverson huffed, pointing to the entrance of the deck below. "Follow the -"

"HEADS UP!" A yell interrupted them, and both Lance and Iverson ducked to see a green blur come flying down from the solar sails.

With a large crash, a short midget-alien landed and rolled to a stop at the main mast, groaning in pain.

"Holt! What is the meaning of this?" Iverson shouted, brushing the invisible dust on his shoulders.

"Sir, just replacing the communications satellite before we really take off, sir," the diminutive person said. "I noticed that it was made of a Drayab 5 model made _decafeebs_ ago -"

"Alright, alright, enough of the technobabble and just make sure to clean that up," Iverson muttered, glancing towards the helm. He stared down at Lance once again.

"I'm keeping an eye on you, _delinquent_ ," he threatened lowly. "Your behavior on this ship better be top notch, or you'll be looking at time in the brig."

With that last word, Iverson turned and marched smartly towards the captain's quarters.

"What did you do to piss off Iverson this much?"

Lance turned to the midget alien. With short brown hair with a green tinge to his skin tone. Several white strands of hair-like filaments braided strands were on the left, attached to a small triagular metallic object that blinked periodically. The alien was androgenous - he looked to be the slender, nerdy sort, emphasized by the half-visible belt of tools and glasses tucked away into the front shirt pocket.

Lance looked away as he slouched. "...I may or may not have gone hydro-boarding a couple of times. In residential areas."

The alien raied an eyebrow. "Hydro-boarding? The illegal-in-twenty-planets hydro-boarding?" When Lance simply nodded, the alien gave an impressed whistle. "Niiiice... for a human. Did you build the board yourself?"

"'Built' is too strong of a word for a simple welding," Lance said, his shoulders unconsciously straightening with pride.

"Eh, I've seen engineering miracles made of duct-tape and tears. If it has any control to fly, it's impressive,"

"Thanks," Lance said with a smile. He held out a hand to the other alien. "The name's Lance. Lance McClain, human. Nice to meet you."

"Pidge Holt, Olkari," the alien said, wiping his glasses and putting them on. "From what I overheard, you're gonna be learning with me and Hunk starting tomorrow."

"Hunk?"

"He's our cook for this trip, though his expertise lies mostly with engineering and weapon fabrication," Pidge comments, pushing his glasses up on his nose. "I'm in the communications and navigations division."

"Pidge, I got permission for us to watch the launch!" A big-set teen yelled as he came on top of the deck. He that looked to be Lance's age, and when their eyes met he gave Lance a large smile.

"Oh! You're Lance, right?" Hunk greeted with his hand outstretched. "I'm Hunk Garret, the Balmeran in charge of your meals for the voyage,"

"Hey," Lance nodded in greeting. "I'm the cabin boy, whatever that means," he added with a shrug.

"Ooh, that's rough, buddy," Hunk said with a wince. "It means you're the gopher for practically everyone on this ship."

"...Thought so," Lance said with a groan, face palming. "I knew there was a catch."

"It's not so bad!" Hunk reassured, gently patting Lance on the back. "You'll work your way up in no time!"

"...You think so?" Lance asked quietly, peering at Hunk.

"Of course!" Hunk answered sincerely.

"You just need to watch out for Iverson, he's a bit of a dick in regulations," Pidge added.

"Yeah, he seemed a little... strict," Lance said. "Although the captain seemed to know about it and tolerate it."

"Hmm. Must be because they were in the same graduating class," Hunk mused, glancing at the crowded port below. "But no worries, you'll be mostly dealing with Shiro with us, anyway. He's pretty cool."

"...Shiro, huh," Lance muttered.

* * *

"Prepare for launch," Allura intoned from the helm. "Uncle, you may want to brace yourself."

"Brace myself? Why, Allura, just back in the day -" Coran began to say, only to be interrupted when the ship moving threw him onto the deck.

Lance chuckled at the racket from afar, then peered out at the backdrop of open space, watching the solar-sails flare out to its fullness.

The many flocks of seabirds were flying around the masts, and the ship pushed past a nebula as if through mist, and soon Arus was hidden by the bright purple threads of the nebula.

"And so it begins," Lance murmured the half-remembered quote, feeling the stardust on his face.


End file.
